


boy scout

by deadbeatfreak99



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boy Scouts, Childhood Friends, First Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Awakening, M/M, Platonic Kissing, Possibly Unrequited Love, slight angst, slight bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbeatfreak99/pseuds/deadbeatfreak99
Summary: ❝I wish you'd let me kiss you like before.❞《In which the world is ending in two weeks and Yoonoh needs to let go.》
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 14
Kudos: 41





	1. reminiscent

**Author's Note:**

> i started this months ago, got super busy/had a bad writer's block, and then finished the last six chapters in two days. it's quite soft and kinda sad but i hope you like it
> 
> chapters get progressively longer

_Life is cruel_ , Yoonoh discerned after hearing the news. Somehow, the more you love something, the greater the possibility is of it being taken away. Yoonoh was no fool. He may have been naïve, which was then followed by a brief phase of denial, but he was quick to understand that certain things just couldn't be changed.

Two weeks were all he was given. Was it selfish of him to ask for more, mentally plead to whatever listening higher entity to give him time? Maybe a whole new chance entirely. Perhaps the power to reverse the years and do things differently. But again, Yoonoh _wasn't_ a fool. He knew that such things wouldn't happen and it was pathetic of him to even long for them to do so. No, rather he should focus on the other instead of himself.

He held his journal with tense hands, it heavy in his grasp, weighing his options. Of course, he couldn't have had anyone get hold of it and think it to be a diary so young-him, back when he had first started it, had made sure it had a black cover with a random football team's logo on the front, tattered rims and scribbled on front pages, inconspicuous and bland in appearance. He wanted to hide the fact that with a couple flip-throughs one would reveal his chicken-scratch written, most personal feelings and revelations, and he had decided he had done a great job at doing so. Now, at seventeen years of age, he understood that, if anything, his work was mediocre. Still, looking back at it made him smile, even if with an unmistakable sombre tint to it.

His fingertips traced the peeled off bits of the stamped on logo, almost hesitating doing as a whisper told him prior to caving in and releasing a breath of resignation.

Yoonoh took that one step closer to his bed and sat on its edge, glancing at the journal he held on his lap for a moment extra until he decided that going through it wouldn't be as terrible as another warning voice told him, that it could be his way of saying farewell.

He flipped past the first few pages he knew were simply doodles or random words, and stopped as he reached the fifth.

There, in his twelve-year-old, messy hangul writing, came the sign that the start of his story was about to begin.

_This belongs to Jung Yoonoh._   
_If you aren't me, stop being nosey!!_   
_Put this back where you found it and pretend you never saw it! (please)_


	2. entry one

He could remember the day clearly, as if his mind had considered it to be one of the most valuable moments of his life and consequently imprinted it into his memory; word for word, gaze for gaze.

Yoonoh was twelve at the time, a child who had ambitions and drive, but was also timid and soft-faced. Not particularly tall nor terribly outgoing, he tended to drift to the sidelines of his class at school, sticking to his handful of good friends and being the model student everyone wanted him to be.

It wasn't something he considered becoming reality, him getting to be part of his town's boy scouts, so when his parents told him he could join as long as he kept his grades up, he was over the moon.

For him it meant a new start. New friends and adventures, learning fancy knots and going camping amidst nature. He envisioned it to be fun and exciting, and for the most part it would be.

The first thing on his list of things to do once he joined was talk to other boys about things he liked in the hopes of finding some with similar interests － that was the tip his mother had given him anyway. He didn't want for things to be as they were at school. It had taken him far too long to speak to anyone there, but here － _here_ he would be _different_.

The uniform fit him well. An olive pair of shorts and a soft green material that bordered on the shades of grey for his t-shirt, a collar adorned with a striped necktie and a hat upon his chestnut hair a similar tone to his bottoms. A delicate pair of hands adjusted his clothing and patted his small backpack upon his arrival at the scout centre, just before he could scamper off excitedly inside.

It must have been a coincedence － whether a positive one or not, he occassionally debated with himself on － that the first person his eyes landed upon happened to be him. The boy he'd admire and befriend, fall in love with and then have slip from between his fingers.

_His first entry spoke about his welcoming to the boy scouts and of his already budding friendships._


	3. entry three

Yoonoh was proud of himself, content, for he had managed to push his limits and interact with many of the boys in his sub-group, including the one with whom he had first met eyes with.

He learned that though he also went by John or Johnny, his Korean name was Youngho, and that their birthdays were very near to one another's. He also discovered that Youngho was two years older than him and had joined the scouts at Yoonoh's current age, thus making the former one of the teen leaders of his bunch assigned by the adults.

Yoonoh understood that Youngho was an extremely cool guy. He could speak English well since he was born in Chicago, all the way in America － something which greatly impressed him and other few newbies － and he was also well-versed in all things about nature.

Whenever it was time to eat, Yoonoh would pluck up all the courage he had buried in his tiny chest and walk over to the older, asking to sit beside him in a meek voice that occassionally cracked with nerves. Youngho never turned him down and would instead smile fondly, nodding, and often try urging Yoonoh into a conversation with the other boys.

Once the younger had gotten more at ease around him, he'd sometimes ask Youngho to show him how to tie pretty knots, and the latter would oblige, taking off his shoe-laces to use as examples.

Yoonoh wasn't aware of his own expression, but his eyes were utterly fascinated by the senior scout who knew so many things and treated him well, so he'd watch his every move with glittering irises and a focused gaze.

_His third entry was about his day at school, but also about how incredible his scout group's leader was._


	4. entry seven

His first month of being an official boy scout had come to an end, the days passing in a rapid succession before his inattentive eyes. The afternoons he spent at the centre steadily increased but his parents didn't speak a word against it, happy to see their shy son leave the house with excitement nestling in his smile and returning home tired, but with plenty of things to recount.

When it had been announced that the scouts would be spending the entirety of a Saturday in the woods, he was ecstatic. It sounded like the perfect adventure and his new friend Donghyuck was just as eager as him, earnestly discussing with him the food he'd pack for their meal breaks and the snacks he'd nibble on in between.

Yoonoh had been personally quite enthralled in the conversation himself, until he felt somebody's elbow brush against his side and heard a thud from the chair abreast him.

"What're you two chattering away about, hm?"

The tone was playful and Yoonoh stiffened upon realising that the voice belonged to the leader of their group.

He swivelled his head around to have his sights land upon Youngho, brown hair fluffy and tan skin shining with a fine coat of sweat that sat beside his eyes like diamonds and trickled around his lips that were curled in a smile.

Unfortunately, Youngho was not looking at him, and oddly enough it made a strange feeling tickle at the younger's insides. He wanted that expression to be directed at him, and he wanted his senior to notice him.

"Hyuckie is talking about the food he's going to bring on our trip this Saturday," he hurriedly informed before the named boy could.

As he wanted, Youngho's gaze shifted onto him and his chest brimmed with a sense of accomplishment at having attracted the older's attention, their eyes meeting until Yoonoh's began to flicker down to the ground and back up again.

"Oh really?"

"Mhm!" Donghyuck piped up, hands cupping his small knees beneath the table as he swung his legs back and forth, "I have the whole meal decided!"

Youngho beamed, feigning being impressed as he gave a little sideways tip of his head, humming in approval.

"And you, Yoonoh? Got anything planned?"

The shorter dumbly blinked, realising that he had not in fact bothered coming up with any sort of menu and would probably eat whatever his mother prepared for him that morning.

"I'm － I don't know yet," he bashfully replied, wishing he could sound as prepared as his friend before him did.

At his response, Youngho's left brow rose, though that faint smile never departed from his lips.

"I see," he said, resting his chin into his palm of the arm which he rested atop the plastic table, "So your parents will be packing your food?"

Cheeks a soft pink, Yoonoh dipped his chin a couple times, far too timid to dare let their irises meet.

A brief pause ensued, and then the older shifted, suddenly sitting upright and clasping a warm hand on the younger's shoulder, causing the latter to minimally startle in his place.

"How about I bring a little extra snack, just for you? That way you'll definitely eat enough. How does that sound?"

_His seventh entry began with his onslaught of information about his forthcoming adventure and carried on with the singular topic of Youngho._


	5. entry thirteen

By his third month as an official boy scout, one could say that Yoonoh had a handful of good friends. It stunned him that merely speaking up and being himself allowed him to have so many new friendships, and he decided that when he'd return to school in a little over a month, he'd behave as he did with his scout group.

It was a Sunday evening and his first time at another person's birthday party － specifically a boy who had recently been close with Donghyuck and Youngho at the centre － and Yoonoh was relatively anxious.

He felt as if he were older somehow, like those teenagers on television who go out a lot and attend parties with a bunch of friends. However happy he was to be similar to the cool kids on TV though, the scene wasn't something he was entirely comfortable with.

He repeated to himself that he just had to remain calm and find some people he knew to talk with, but the loud music was starting to bother him and most kids seemed to be huddled in different places, already playing games with each other. Could he really simply pop over and intrude, when he wasn't familiar with any of the participants? They'd probably be upset or irritated and those were the last sentiments he wanted to be the cause of.

The young boy sighed, awkwardly sitting on the lush grass of the garden whilst staring down into his cup of strawberry juice.

"Yoonoh?"

His head flicked up and in an instant his irises were set alight upon seeing who was stood before him.

"Youngho!"

The shorter hurriedly shuffled onto his feet, receiving help from the other who noticed him almost spilling the sugary contents over the rim of the white plastic.

"Why are you sitting by yourself?" Youngho questioned, a faint layer of concern dusting his words as he watched the younger squirm, abashed, "If you want, you can come join Donghyuck and I in a game we're playing inside with some other guys."

The offer didn't seem much appreciated and Youngho set his head askew prior to bending over slightly, enough to have his eyes meet the downcast pair of the younger.

"What's wrong? You don't like games?"

Yoonoh belatedly shook his head.

"I'm afraid."

The brunet stilled, mind mulling over the brief response before saying anything.

"You're worried they won't like you?"

A nod was all he got in reply.

"But Yoonie, you're such a fun guy! I promise that they will all want to be your friend once you talk to them for a bit."

Despite the encouragement, Yoonoh remained with his chin pressed to his neck, the tips of his ears now red and his eyes dewy from believing that his reluctance to go was letting his senior down.

The sight of possible on-coming tears brought panic upon Youngho, who quickly dropped to his knees and carefully took hold of the younger's sweaty palm which had been fisted in tension at his side.

"It's okay. We don't have to go, I won't make you," he assured in a soothing tone, rubbing his thumb in circles over the top of the chubby hand he held, "Please don't cry, Yoonie, it's normal to be shy."

His words were greeted by silence and a quiet sniffle that made his stomach churn and heart twinge with pity.

"I have an even better idea," he spoke up after some seconds ticked by, "Would you like me to take you to a special place? I think you'll love it, and there won't be anyone that will make you anxious, alright?"

Apprehensively, Yoonoh's gaze lifted and set on that of his senior, warm and fond but evidently worried about him, and the idea made the young boy feel a sort of fuzzy tickle in his tummy.

He nodded, giving in to the curiousity of where the older wanted to take him and eager to no longer be the weird boy sitting by himself while everyone else had fun around him.

His answer brought a beaming grin to Youngho's pinkish lips and the taller moved onto his feet before arranging his grip on Yoonoh's hand, joining them so that he could guide him along the side of the house to the back, where no other children had settled but an imposing tree stood.

Yoonoh looked up at it in awe, noticing that there had been built a tiny wooden house among its thick branches.

"Nice, isn't it? You want to go up?"

His head bobbed repeatedly, all his nervousness thrown to the wind as his excitement doubled, and the reaction made Youngho chuckle.

"Awesome," he declared, tugging the younger closer to the tree, signalling to him the ladder attached to its bark.

"Climb up first; and don't worry, if you fall, I'll catch you."

Of course, Yoonoh trusted him. Yoonoh had complete and utter faith in his senior, and so he did as told, shimmying up the planks until he lifted the board above him and popped his head through the square-shaped hole that was cut into the construction's floor.

Setting his forearms on the wood, he tugged himself up and over onto the solid base and released a breath of relief and satisfaction. No more than some moments later and Youngho had done the same, though with clearly more practice than him, which made the younger wonder just how often he had visited before.

Youngho turned to look at him, offering a genuine smile.

"Do you like this better?"

His chestnut hair bounced against his forehead, his rosy plump cheeks high as he grinned in glee. The older lulled his head back with a playful cheer, lifting it forward again to let out a laugh.

"That's great. Come, let's sit by the window. We can see the stars from this side. You like stars, yeah?"

Yoonoh hummed, already crawling the short distance to the window which his senior had walked.

The two sat abreast each other then, elbows brushing and a delicate breeze drying their damp faces. The music was still loud, but it no longer bothered Yoonoh, in fact he hardly paid it any mind. In the tree house it was just him and Youngho, and that was all he could really focus on.

Despite his love for stars and constellations, his heart wouldn't stop roughly beating against his ribcage, as if trying to tell him something he couldn't comprehend.

He was comfortable around his senior, and yet why was his heart behaving worse than when he thought about joining a random group of boys to play just minutes ago?

"Youngho. . ."

The boy turned to him, an air of tranquillity encircling him as he gave a mild curl of his lips.

"What is it?"

"My heart － My heart is being weird," Yoonoh timidly confessed, "I don't understand what's wrong."

For an instant, concern flashed in the eyes of the older, thinking it to be something serious.

"What do you mean?" he urged, already moving in case he had to take the boy back down at a moment's notice, "Do you need a doctor? Do you take medicine of any kind?"

Yoonoh gave a low whine, frustrated at having made his senior panic and at probably being a pain for a second time.

"No, I don't need medicine it's just that － my heart, it's going really fast in my chest like when I'm scared of people, but I'm not scared of you. What does it mean?"

The statement left Youngho stumped, his jaw falling slack and his muscles easing from their ready-to-go position. His sight flitted across the boy's face, studying the confused and shy expression that was sewn into such smooth features.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Yoonie," Youngho eventually sputtered, a faint pink dotting his cheeks as he faced ahead to look out the cut-out window.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it just means you're having fun."

Yoonoh considered the explanation and then agreed, deciding that whatever his senior told him must be correct.

"I always have fun being with you, Johnny."

The latter looked at him, his smile now traced with bewilderment and tension.

"Seriously?"

And then Yoonoh did it, far too happy and taken by excitement. He moved onto his knees and leaned forward, pressing his lips against the plush ones of his senior scout leader in a chaste peck, but that sent a ripple of emotions through the both of them.

"Yes," he said once he had pulled back, face still dangerously close to that of Youngho, "Thank you for being my friend."

_His thirteenth entry spoke mostly of how he disliked parties, but also discussed the oddities of his heart and the time he spent with Youngho in the treehouse._


	6. entry seventeen

School had begun again and, as he had promised himself, Yoonoh wanted to finally reach out to his new classmates and no longer hide away in the background. _He just had to be as he was with his scout friends －_ he kept mentally encouraging himself all the ride to his school － it would be _that_ easy. But perhaps who he was wasn't as fun as Youngho had told him.

Unlike previous years where the days went by with him sitting in silence and being a mere on-looker of the friendly banter in class, his days began to go by with the other boys giving him strange looks, until soon all the girls were giggling about him and his peers' words were mocking.

Yoonoh couldn't grasp why things were turning out so different from his time at the scout centre. Over there he had made a respectable number of friends, definitely more than he had ever imagined, so why was he still isolated at his school if he was being who he was?

The situation progressively declined with the boys who'd steal his change of clothes during gym or shove him as he'd run past them. They'd stick their feet out to make him trip and call him words he didn't even know the meaning of most of when the teachers weren't present.

He thought the boys didn't like him, but maybe he could befriend the girls. The idea was a failure as they proceeded to laugh in his face or grimace whenever he asked to sit with them at lunch, telling him there was no place for fatties at their table.

Yoonoh didn't think he was too chubby. Perhaps his tummy was a bit rounder than the other boys' and his fingers did look short and meaty, but he didn't really consider it an issue until then.

As weeks passed, he fell back into his habit of hiding in the back of the class and avoiding the other students, and though their treatment of him didn't improve, he did his best to ignore them and focus on the fact that outside he had friends who cared.

_His seventeenth entry was about his first month back at school, wondering if people hated him for his body or for who he was._


	7. entry twenty-five

It was one of the warmer weekends in Autumn, the time they were scheduled to go camping for the two days. His school week had been a particularly rough one to get through, what with the remarks being thrown his way and the tests which were building up heavy on his shoulders.

If Youngho or Donghyuck had noticed anything off about his behaviour, they hadn't mentioned it and for that he was grateful, even if a part of him wished the former would be able to see through him better.

With his packed necessities on his back and his boots padding on the soft soil just outside the edge of the wood where they had planned on meeting, Yoonoh pushed all other thoughts to the distant crevices of his mind and adorned his mouth with a smile the instant he spotted his friends already chatting.

He picked up his speed to reach them, slightly out of breath when he arrived but puffing out a greeting nonetheless as Donghyuck threw an arm over his shoulder.

"This is going to be so fun!" the younger exclaimed at his arrival, squeezing Yoonoh close, "You'll stay with our team, right, senior Johnny?"

Stay with them? Were they splitting into smaller groups for the trip?

"If you want me to, sure."

Yoonoh's eyes darted from the ground to the taller who offered him a sweet smile, feeling his ears prickle a bit red as he saw how cool the other looked with his cap set so precisely on his floppy locks of hair.

Blinking away from him, realising he had to ask how the whole camping mechanism worked with the scouts, Yoonoh turned to a Donghyuck who had just fisted the air at their senior's agreement.

"But － So we're dividing into smaller groups?"

Donghyuck's lips pursed.

"Only during the day. At half-four we have to get to a clearing the seniors know for dinner and set-up our tents."

"Oh," Yoonoh spoke lowly, the thought of him being with his two friends for the whole day making him giddy, "then we can do whatever we want?"

Youngho took the opportunity to cut in, in case either of the younger two got any foolish ideas.

"Yes, but we can't wander too far and we have to avoid doing anything dangerous, understood?"

The shorter scouts stood slightly straighter, giving a clean nod of the head to show they would be on their best behaviour.

Once the groups were sent off by the adults, the trio chose a path and began their walk into the trees, Donghyuck running ahead and Yoonoh tempted to do the same, but reluctant to leave his senior's side.

It seemed however that the want to go wild was painted all over his features for Youngho let out a chuckle and gave him a light nudge with his elbow.

"You know, you can run around too if you'd like. I won't tell."

He gave an exaggerated playful wink but Yoonoh pouted in turn, giving a stubborn shake of his head.

"I want to stay with you, senior."

Youngho's expression took on a tint of hesitancy, but as fast as it came it went, and he brushed off the reply with a shrug.

"Alright, but when you get bored you can go off with Hyuck, as long as you stay nearby."

The shorter gave a nod despite knowing that the moment he'd go to play with his friend would never come.

The pair kept walking whilst Donghyuck eventually calmed down and was simply marching ahead, sniffing plants and watching over bugs that crawled or flew close enough for him to have spotted them.

Youngho spoke up from time to time, indicating certain bushes and birds, a handful of beetles and flowers to tell Yoonoh some facts he knew about them.

Every word he spoke was like gospel to the latter, whose gaze would go from the referred to object to his senior, his irises gleaming with admiration and sparkling with the sunlight that pierced through the overhead foliage.

It was neither too hot nor cold, yet humid enough that the air felt thick with fine droplets. The sound of various birds singing in tune to their songs blended with that of ruffling leaves and dry twigs crunching beneath the soles of their feet.

A certain silence had blanketed the three, Donghyuck intrigued by the fauna and flora, Youngho seemingly lost in thought and Yoonoh pondering how life would have been should he have been born as an insect.

"Oh, you see that plant over there?" Youngho abruptly inquired, index finger pointing towards a section of greenery whilst he crouched closer to the younger who had perked up at being addressed.

Yoonoh nodded, eyebrows drawing nearer in concentration to hone his sight in on the plant.

"It doesn't live for very long and only grows in these parts because －"

An overly dramatic groan, and Youngho's eyes snapped to where Donghyuck had theatrically drawn his head back.

"Why are you being such a teacher, senior?" he whined petulantly, "I don't want to learn."

Youngho sighed a hefty sigh of feigned irritation and stress, eyes briefly rising to behind his lids before he straightened his posture and looked to the youngest.

"You may not want to learn, but Yoonie here is enjoying doing so," he bit back, then shifting his gaze to the latter, "right?"

Though with a moment of apprehension, Yoonoh nodded fervently, arms fastening at his sides. His gesture was well received, if Youngho's satisfied grin was anything to judge by, and the boy was more than happy to have pleased his senior in any way.

"See?" Youngho had already returned his attention to Donghyuck, feet striding forward, "People understand that knowledge is － shit!"

As because of his momentary carelessness the brunet hadn't spotted a broken branch, slender and dry, laying on the ground nestled within the fallen leaves and shards of grass, he subsequently had a nasty trip which brought him to sliding down about a metre slope on his knees and palms.

"Senior said a bad word!"

"Senior Johnny!"

He let out a tiresome breath, the stinging of his grazed skin beginning to instantly make its presence known. Yoonoh was the first to jog up to him, pudgy hands already fidgeting with the small medical kit he had slid out of the side of his backpack.

"Are you badly hurt?"

The question answered itself when Youngho moved from all fours to sitting on the ground, looking at the damage for himself. Nothing too serious really, he had survived a lot worse when learning how to skateboard. Nevertheless, he heard Yoonoh let out a gasp of utter shock upon the sight of some blood oozing mainly from his right knee, and just as he was about to tell him it was no reason for him to be concerned and he simply needed to rinse it off, the younger dropped to his knees beside him, snapping open his white box and taking out a disinfectant and a roll of gauze.

"Yoonoh, I don't need all that," he tried to assure, eyes flicking to watch the kid's fingers fighting to break the miniature bottle's seal, "Pour some water on it to clean it and －"

"Don't worry Johnny," Yoonoh interjected, smooth features contorted into an expression of sheer concentration, "I did lots of practice and I know how to help."

He couldn't bring himself to retaliate any further, not after seeing the determination in the younger's jaw and the miniscule quiver in his upper lip. Youngho could do nothing but pathetically smile fondly at the other, watching as his tiny hands cleaned the senior scout's superficial wounds with care and quickness.

Yoonoh was far too sweet a boy － he understood when a sudden drop splashed onto his forearm － and it made Youngho want to comfort him even if he was the one in pain.

He rose the hand that wasn't currently being dabbed at with tissue and cupped the heated cheek of the boy, full in his hand and the salt from his stray tears burning at the thin cuts as they seeped in. Youngho ignored it however and gently wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb, giving an unwavering smile to the younger when he timidly met his eyes with his own damp ones.

"Don't worry, Yoonie," he murmured as he continued to circle his thumb, "it really is nothing to panic over. I'm fine."

"Yeah, senior is strong!" Donghyuck piped up, having reached them at one point that neither of the pair could pick out, "You don't need to cry because John is a pro!"

Still spurting words of support and encouragement, the youngest embraced Yoonoh from behind, wrapping his short arms around the soft tummy of his friend and giving a squeeze, bringing a laugh out of the latter. 

_His twenty-fifth entry began with an introduction to his day but proceeded to talk solely about Youngho and how worried he was for the older scout._


	8. entry twenty-six

On the second day of their camping weekend, the leaders had organised a variety of activities to keep the scouts busy, and indeed by the time dinner came about Yoonoh was fully drained of all his energy. Donghyuck was the same, what with having given his all to impress his seniors, even if he'd giggle mirthfully and begin to fool around with other scouts the moment he'd remember the fact that he'd get to skip going to school the next day.

Yoonoh had to admit, the idea was quite pleasant for him to think about too, which would have been strange in itself had his school life been in a different state than it was at the time.

No, he'd rather not let his classmates invade his fun whilst he was with his friends, he decided, and so he grabbed another one of the last two chocolate spread biscuits Youngho had packed for him － as promised － and bit it in half, munching on it in silence as he watched the flame of their camp's fire burn alone.

Most of the scouts had gone to sleep with the darkness that settled early over the woods, and the stragglers who remained awake were playing tag some ways off with an adult leader.

Yoonoh did consider joining, but he figured that with the chubby body he had he may be left breathless too soon and he just might end up being a bother for them, anyway.

No, it was best if he sat and ate his snack in peace, he decided, where he wouldn't annoy anyone by forcing himself into the clique of already formed friendships.

"Yoonoh? Why are you here?"

He jolted upright in his spot on the worn down log, his second and last biscuit nearly jumping over the edge of its plastic container, though fortunately surviving his fright.

"Johnny," the boy said, at a loss of how to respond. He felt as though the honest reply to the question sounded rather pitiful, and the thing he wanted least in the world was for the senior he admired to think he was a loser.

"I," he began, sight flickering to the ground and then the flames, sagging shoulders rolling in a shrug, "don't feel like playing."

Whether or not his lie was bought was a mystery, but a number of moments passed in stillness until the older breathed from his mouth and took a seat abreast the other, uncaring of their close proximity as he too stared into the fire.

"Do you like the biscuits?" he eventually asked.

The question caught the boy off-guard, but he hurried to give a hum of gratitude and contentment.

"A lot," he happily said, dusting off his palms and glancing down at the final one at the bottom of the box.

Youngho gave a nod, setting his forearms on his thighs as his hands clasped between them.

"That's great; they're my favourite brand."

"Really?" the shorter chirped, then looking at the biscuit he had picked up as if it were a foreign object. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then a smile stitched itself to his lips, his hand offering the treat to the other who arched a brow in return.

"You can have the last one, as a thank you."

Youngho blinked in surprise before taking hold of the biscuit with the tips of his fingers and breaking it down the middle, "A half each, then."

A subtle pink painted the supple cheeks of the boy who shyly took back the piece offered and began slowly nibbling on it, to make it last longer.

Some minutes passed with no words being shared between the two, and Yoonoh caught himself throwing glances at his senior that would often last too long, distracted by seeing the way the flame's lights appeared to dance along the curves of the older's face, thread through the strands of hair on his forehead and glisten on the lips he licked clean of any crumbs.

"I noticed you've been more reluctant than usual to hang out with the scouts outside of Donghyuck and I," the leader eventually spoke, murmured words slithering through the thick atmosphere until it was cut, "Why is that?"

Yoonoh squirmed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and no longer finding Youngho's face to be distracting enough. He looked to his booted feet, swishing them just above the ground, moving the blades of flattened grass.

"I don't want to bother them," was all he said, and really it was enough.

The taller let out a breath, one which Yoonoh mistakenly misinterpreted as being of irritation.

"Yoonie, why do you keep thinking like this?" Youngho asked in an almost scolding manner, "You're anything but a bother and everyone here really likes you. Distancing yourself from them like this makes the others think you don't like them, you know?"

The boy dipped his head, apologetic, now wondering if he was inflicting how he felt upon his fellow scouts.

"Not everyone thinks they're the best person in the world, but that doesn't stop them from being themselves and being around others. In life, you just need to do you and those who like you will be your friends, those who don't, won't. It's that easy. Yoonoh, it's impossible to have everyone liking you, but it's also impossible to have everyone hating you. In a big world like this, there are so many people who would love to be your friend. Like Donghyuck for example."

"What I'm trying to say is, that you need to put yourself out there for people to first understand what kind of person you are, and then decide whether they want to get closer or not."

Youngho's eyes lifted from the fire to spare a look at the young boy abreast him, stunned to see trails of tears mutedly trekking down the pudgy face of the boy whose shoulders were trembling.

"Y-Yoonie! Yoonie, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. Are you okay?"

The smaller shook his head, bringing his hand up to use the back of it to wipe away the saltwater that stained his delicate skin.

"Senior, you're. . . so cool."

"Cruel?"

Yoonoh barked out a laugh, his grin baffling the other even further.

"I said cool, Johnny, not cruel!"

"Oh." he relaxed, "Thanks."

The boy's crying had already met its end and he then wore a luminous smile, one that made a sensation bloom in Youngho's chest, closely trailed by the panic of realisation.

He watched without seeing as the chestnut-headed teen set the container, which had been on his lap, on the wood at his side, his eyes curiously peeking at where the other scouts could be seen still playing with their torches lit.

"You must be right, senior, because you know many things."

Youngho would have stated some doubts about a belief such as that, but he let it slide with a jutting of his jaw and a wrinkling of his brow.

"I'll do my best to do as you've told me, I promise," his head unexpectedly turned, locking eyes with the unsuspecting scout who twitched at the contact.

As the first time in the treehouse and as the two occurrences following that, Yoonoh drew nearer until his sugar-scented lips pressed against those of Youngho, firmly but briefly, and the feeling lasted barely enough for the latter to process it.

Yoonoh leant back and beamed as if it meant nothing, then proceeding to stand and give a slight bow to a still shellshocked scout leader.

"Thanks a lot, senior Johnny," the boy said with a faint glisten of drying tears remaining visible on the sides of his eyes, "I'm going to go play with the others before going to sleep. Goodnight!"

And like that he ran off, leaving Youngho with a thundering heart and a muddled mind, wondering if what was happening was acceptable or not.

_His twenty-sixth entry retold the entire scene of the two boys beneath the moonlight and by the campfire, how intelligent and kind Youngho was and how giving him a kiss of gratitude made his tummy flip._


	9. entry forty-three

There was not much behind the countless kisses Yoonoh planted upon Youngho's lips, if not for the fact that they made him happy and he believed it to be a good way of showing how grateful he was.

The senior scout never spoke against the action until then, and so even when Yoonoh had had a particularly tough day at school, he'd meet his friend either at the centre or at each other's homes and sneak a kiss when they were alone, always amazed to see how it felt as though magic had helped him feel momentarily better. Kissing Youngho had so become his personal healing spell, and cast upon him instant happiness.

That day was possibly the most special day of the whole year － as Yoonoh saw it, at least － i.e. the 9th of February, Youngho's sixteenth birthday.

After having celebrated together with both his school and scout friends, he and Yoonoh helped clean the living room and kitchen up as the latter had offered to stay after the party and lessen the workload of the family. Therefore, both with wet cloths in hand and a pair of speakers still playing music in the background － though now at a lower volume and only the songs off of a western R&B artist's latest album － the two mucked around and chatted, occassionally surprising the other with a flying plastic cup hurtling the boy's way or by flapping water from their cloths.

Yoonoh was happy to see his senior near radiant, lips constantly curled and the corners of his eyes wrinkling with every laugh.

"Thanks for helping out, Yoon," the older had said after some time, placing the used napkins he'd gathered in a dish plate on the kitchen tabletop, later wiping his hands in the cloth he had flipped over his shoulder.

Yoonoh hummed, setting down a stack of cups and glancing back at the mostly clean lounge with satisfaction.

"No biggie," he replied contentedly, "It's your special day."

His words brought a chortle out of the newly-sixteen-year-old boy, who then extended a hand to muss up Yoonoh's hair, leaving it to stand in awkward chunks and angles.

"You're too sweet," he admitted, amidst his laughter that only strengthened at the sight of said boy's pursed lips at the action.

"What's the pout for, shorty?"

"You －" he paused, busy with flattening his hair back into a decent style with his palms, "You treat me like a kid, but I'll soon be sixteen too, y'know."

The youngest remained grumbling under his breath while Youngho watched, entertained yet somehow distant, mind drifting along a river of thoughts he struggled to go against.

"That'll be in another two years," he quipped, enjoying the red flush that had begun to paint his friend's ears and cheeks, down to the tip of his nose, "and either way, I would be eighteen then, so you'll always be a kid to me."

The brunet huffed, deciding that being comfortable with his hair at that point was a lost cause, and whether it looked alright or not would be his senior's fault, and the latter should look at it and feel guilty.

Subsequently, his eyes darted up to those of Youngho who rose a brow, something he took as an almost challenging expression.

"Two years isn't a big difference."

"Well, the whole twenty centimetres of our height is."

The joke didn't sit well with the younger, who instantly whined and gave a feeble shove at the taller, pout reformed and stronger than the moment prior.

"You're a jerk."

Youngho scoffed. "Maybe, but at least I'm a hot one."

"You're prettier than you're hot."

A blink and then silence, Yoonoh awaiting some sort of response from his friend who stiffened to stone at the pronunciation of the word.

The brunet shuffled minimally on his feet, as if trying to go unnoticed.

"I'm not pretty, Yoon," he contrasted, smile long faded from his lips, "I'm not a girl."

At the added end, the youngest squinted his eyes in bewilderment. "And what, boys can't be pretty? Are only girls pretty? That's not fair."

"Yeah, but that's how it is."

There followed a moment of contemplation, the gears in Yoonoh's skull clearly rotating into motion as he tried to comprehend and give sense to something so odd.

In conclusion he huffed out a breath and shrugged his shoulders, as if shaking off the weight of the thought.

"I don't care," he almost rebelliously announced, chin held high, "I still think you're pretty, Johnny."

With that, he proceeded to rise onto his toes and purse his lips, clearly intending on planting a kiss upon those of his friend, but oddly enough he was stopped by a hand clutching his shoulder.

Yoonoh stilled, baffled by the action that had never occurred before. He saw an emotion of some sort flash across Youngho's hardening gaze, and it made worry settle over him like a fine coat of dust.

"You need to stop doing that."

He frowned, slowly flattening his feet on the floor.

"Wha－"

"You need to stop kissing me on the mouth, okay?"

Youngho awaited the younger's reaction with bathed breath, mildly regretting how crudely he had turned him down. The latter was peering up at him in panic and concern, the idea that Youngho was possibly starting to hate him festering in his mind, buzzing like a trapped bee in his skull.

"Oh － Okay."

He hesitated, almost scared to make things worse.

"Can I kiss you on the cheek instead?"

"That's. . . fine, I guess."

_His forty-third entry began with describing how fun the birthday party had been, but quickly recounted the events which had transpired when he and Youngho were alone, wondering if the other no longer wanted him as a friend._


	10. entry forty-five

Yoonoh supposed that things would get better on their own, as long as he didn't do anything foolish enough to worsen them. The days following Youngho's birthday were strangely cold, in a way. The older seemed to be asking for more space between them and Yoonoh couldn't understand whether he himself was disgusting or if he were merely an annoyance that made things even more of a pain with all the hand-holding and kisses.

When February the 14th rolled up, his own birthday, he was anxious. His mother insisted on organising a small get-together to celebrate the occasion, even though he knew no one from school would come and his fellow scout members would most likely only show up out of pity. Despite that, what plagued his mind more than anything, was the question of whether or not Youngho would attend.

It wasn't that he was avoiding him, but considering how the last birthday had ended he doubted if Youngho would still be willing to relive a similar event.

The night of the party, the majority of his scout mates arrived at his door, some bringing small, personal gifts and others giving gifts they bought as a group. He had to admit, it made him feel relatively special to have a number of people coming to celebrate his birthday with him, and he was truly grateful for the fun he began to have once he got gradually more comfortable being the centre of attention.

The peak of the party was, however, when Youngho finally arrived, an hour late despite living nearby and dressed in a graphic printed hoodie and torn jeans, carrying his skateboard and a present in hand. Yoonoh hadn't even bothered to check what it was though, utterly thrilled by the mere face of his senior and running up to him, engulfing the waist he securely held close.

"Thank you for coming," he mumbled into the felted material, words muffled but still distinctive.

Momentarily the other was stiff, then his body tipped so as to drop his board down and a large hand apprehensively lifted, settling atop the shorter's fluffed hair.

"Of course I'd come to my friend's birthday, I'm not _that_ bad of a guy."

Yoonoh's face rubbed against his chest and initially Youngho had believed he was burrowing affectionately deeper, an action he found himself having longed for ever since he began to put some space between them; but the mild happiness he felt at the idea was soon crushed when he understood that the younger was merely shaking his head.

"You're not bad at all," the muffled words reached his ears over the playing music － somehow he could always pick out Yoonoh's voice amongst noise, "You're the best guy there is."

And then Youngho felt a jagged blade stab him, wriggle itself between his ribs, jostling the bones in their place. Guilt. If Yoonoh knew what kind of thoughts would sometimes cross the brunet's mind, if he knew that he was trying to sever their bond, would he still consider him to be such a nice guy? Youngho heavily doubted it.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the shuffling against his body; the shorter had tilted his face upwards and set his chin onto Youngho's chest, right over his throbbing heart. He gazed up at him with glowing eyes in which Youngho could see the purity and care Yoonoh held for him, but also himself, who was selfish and careless.

"You okay, Johnny?"

The boy apprehensively nodded, stiff as though his joints were welded stuck.

Despite the dry response, Yoonoh was happy and beamed up at him in a way that only worsened the sensation that had spread along each of the older's veins.

The shorter hurriedly took hold of his bigger hand, the warmth he possessed seering Youngho's palm, but the latter was already being tugged towards the rest of the guests, Yoonoh spewing excited words about how much fun they would have.

In his right, they did enjoy themselves, playing a variety of games and fooling around with each other. It was just slightly past eleven, the party having eventually dimmed into a casual hangout, when the last group of kids left, giving their final pats of congratulations to the birthday boy before leaving.

"Hey, senior?"

Youngho turned at the whispered call from the smaller, both having been tidying up the place along with Yoonoh's parents.

"Hm?" He hummed back in response, cocking a brow as he peered from over his shoulder.

The brunet peeked at the only adults in the room, stealthily as though he were on a spy mission of some sort, and Youngho felt his lips upturn fondly at the sight. When the former looked back at him, he repressed his smile.

"Wanna sneak upstairs and play with my new PlayStation? Please?"

Youngho feigned considering the proposal, as if he didn't instantly intend on saying yes, and then gave a quick nod, satisfaction bubbling within him when he saw how glee took a mere second to coat the younger's pudgy features.

At the reply, Yoonoh mimicked his action and crouched his back, lowering himself so as to be less noticable and ushering his friend to follow him with his left hand after having set aside his washcloth.

"Follow me," he whispered in an overly hushed voice, and Youngho fought back his smile once more, doing as the brunet did and following him up the narrow stairway.

They didn't turn on the light, for the sake of keeping their movements hidden, and Yoonoh stumbled on the steps a number of times, and each time Youngho would hold him up by his waist from behind, a slight skip in chest as he realised it was as if they were hugging. The pair had hugged countless times, Yoonoh was very eager to show his affection, so Youngho assumed he'd be used to it; but now － now every time they held hands or hugged or the shorter would reach up to kiss his cheeks he'd feel flustered, pink faced and gooey hearted. Youngho was afraid of what it meant.

Upon entering the boy's bedroom, the latter blindly searched for the light switch before clicking the power on, thankfully illuminating the room.

Yoonoh wasted no time before throwing himself front first on the bed's screeching mattress, the spring complaining at his less than elegant landing to which the child responded with a drawn out groan of his own. Seeing this, Youngho mirthfully rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"You're going to break the bed one day, Yoon," he murmured under his breath, giving him a light slap on his calf.

Said boy shook his head, "Nuh uh, it's super strong," he retorted, almost affronted, and then he was pushing himself up onto his forearms, glancing over back at his friend who watched him with a dubious expression, "Could you turn the game on? I want to play with you before you go."

Obediently Youngho strode to the already ripped open box and set the system up, wires and cables in place, prior to sliding in the sole game that his parents had bought him, Crash Bandicoot.

Youngho didn't play as well as he could have, admittedly, partly because of him wanting to let Yoonoh have his sweet victories, and partly because his attention span had been reduced to that of a goldfish.

He had some lofty thoughts clouding his mind and he'd keep getting distracted by Yoonoh's cute cheers and panicked rambling when things would start going wrong. His gaze kept drifting to those fleshy hands that could only hold the controller just right, that beaming grin pushing up full rosy cheeks, those small feet clad in woolly socks wagging against the floor in unreleased excitement. Yoonoh was adorable, and Youngho didn't want to grasp why he would think so.

Time passed quickly nonetheless and soon the eldest's phone was buzzing in his pocket with messages from his mother telling him to go home, warning him that whilst Youngho wouldn't be attending the following day of school, he would be.

Unsurprisingly, even before the black head had the chance to tell him he was leaving, Yoonoh had understood, a pout already on his lips.

"Do you really have to go, Johnny?" he asked in a tone that oozed disappointment, "Can't you stay for a little bit more?"

Youngho huffed, a smile playing on his lips as he teasingly mussed the smaller's hair, chuckling at the latter's hands flying up to stop him, "It's past one in the morning, Yoonie, I can't stay here forever. Besides," he continued when the boy gave a whine, "some of us aren't lucky enough to be skipping school tomorrow."

Yoonoh's sight snapped up, eyes round as he thought of an idea.

"You could hide in here if you want! Your parents would never know!"

The taller gave a snort, "Sure they wouldn't."

With the sarcasm evident, Yoonoh deflated, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked to his feet, clearly still pondering but for some reason appearing relatively nervous. Youngho decided that his family could wait a few extra minutes and remained rooted in place, giving time to the younger to say what he wanted to say.

"Can I. . ." Yoonoh gradually began, voice quiet and timid, nearly afraid, though the older didn't know of what, "Can I kiss you?"

Oh.

"I don't think －"

Youngho cut himself off, irises drinking in the image before him, of his dear friend already leaning nearer, concern in his own eyes and a purse to his cherry lips. He was nervous, worried, maybe he thought Youngho didn't like him or something of the sort, and the former couldn't help but cringe at the idea of hurting him like that.

What if he just said _screw it, alright, let's kiss_? They'd been doing it for so long and Yoonoh would be sad if they suddenly stopped because the older of the two was being insensitive.

And so Youngho swallowed his words with a gulp down his dry throat, his tongue subconsciously gliding over his lips as his sight trickled to Yoonoh's own.

"Alright," and not a moment later the brunet was placing his mouth against his, unmoving but lasting a couple seconds longer than usual.

His pulse skyrocketed and his entire face flushed, and when Yoonoh pulled away grinning like an absolute embodiment of joy, his stomach somersaulted.

"I wish you'd let me kiss you like before," Yoonoh abruptly confessed, catching the older off-guard.

"Uh, how about you do it every time it's one of our birthdays?"

Yoonoh considered it.

"And when I'm very sad?"

"And when you're very sad. . . I'll hug you too."

The smaller seemed content with such an answer and eagerly nodded his head, all front teeth showing as his lips parted in a smile so blinding Youngho felt nauseous.

"Thanks Johnny, you're the coolest."

_His forty-fifth entry spoke less of his party and gifts than it did of his time with his best friend and how happy he was that maybe Johnny wasn't starting to hate him after all._


	11. entry fifty-two

Yoonoh didn't know what he was doing wrong. Why did all his classmates hate him? He just did what they did and he always tried to not be a bother in any way, sticking to walls and tucked into corners, to the point that most break times he'd eat in a bathroom stall. He did his best, so why did they keep putting him down?

As it often happened since it was his mother tongue and he was older, Youngho had helped Yoonoh prepare for an English grammar test, spending hours at his home and being a patient tutor while the brunet would ogle him for his American accent － Youngho assumed it would never fail to impress him and this thought pleased him, oddly enough.

Along with the fact that he himself had lived in the U.S.A. for four years and had an affinity for the language, upon receiving his marked test some days later, he came to know that once again he had placed first in class.

Seeing this, giddiness brimmed from within his chest down to his fingertips and he couldn't wait to tell the news to Youngho and his parents; however, as he lifted his head his smile dissolved.

"Miss, I think Yoonoh is a cheater!"

The teacher quirked a brow, her untrusting stare snapping from the girl seated in the second row to Yoonoh in the far right, whose jaw had fallen slack and eyes had widened in shock as she herself finished handing out the last of the tests.

"He always gets first place and that's impossible! He's not _that_ smart," the child prattled on accusingly, receiving murmurs and nods of agreement from her peers.

At that, the woman's expression hardened, her eyes squinting slightly, enough to hardly be seen.

"I've heard Jung does well in most subjects, Min," she replied in a bristly tone, "He also always does his assigned work, unlike some of you."

The subtle jab brought an angry red to the girl's ears and a number of others, but Yoonoh found no joy in it, far too distraught by the fact that he was being accused of being unfair at all.

"But I saw him look into his bag during the test!"

Yoonoh let out a faint squeak, "I promise I didn't, I only did well because I studied a lot with a senior. I'm not that smart but － but he's kind and helps me and I try really hard."

The bob-haired girl turned to him with a wrinkled face, sour and disgusted as she gave him a once over, "Ew, is he your boyfriend or something? Gross."

Boyfriend? Gross?

"That's enough, Min," the teacher intervened, clearly altered by the derogatory comment, "Another word and I'll be calling your parents."

Despite her raised voice though, Yoonoh heard merely fragments and processed not a syllable, far too entangled in his swirling thoughts.

Youngho as his boyfriend? Why would that be so bad? Why would she offend his friend by calling him gross when he was one of the best people he knew? － given he didn't know many. He felt the need to defend himself in some way, defend Youngho who couldn't do so in his absence, but his hands were already trembling from having spoken loudly to be heard by the teacher a couple moments ago and his eyes were welling with tears from his frazzled emotional state.

He went to speak up, but his lips were quivering and his voice wobbled, "That's not t-true," he forced out, "Youngho is my best － best friend a-and he isn't gro-gross. I －"

"Yoonoh, why don't you go calm down outside for a while?" the woman had softened her tone but he looked to her in panic, cheeks blotching pink as tears eventually spilled down them.

"B-But I didn't cheat, Miss."

She gave him a fond smile, patient and soothing and it momentarily felt as though she were his mother, "I know you didn't, I had been watching over everyone during the test. Now go out for a bit and relax, alright?"

Belatedly Yoonoh nodded and, keeping his head tucked in as much as possible, scampered away from the sneering and irritated gazes of his classmates and into the vacant hall, taking a deep breath once he closed the door after himself.

He had known it from the time that he'd exited, perhaps the teacher had known it too, that he wouldn't have step foot into the room again that day. No matter how much he attempted to strain his mind into a tranquil state he couldn't manage, everything hazy and confused and _hurting_. He was _hurt_ and the realization that the other students really despised him brought an ache to his chest.

All he wanted to do was go home and hide, and that was what he told his teacher once she came to check on him.

She'd looked down at the small boy with a pitying gaze, but comforting and understanding nonetheless. She'd told him not to pay the others any attention, that they were just jealous of what a smart and good boy he was, but how could he when even their stares scorched his skin and their hushed snide remarks stung his ears?

Eventually, when his father came to take him home early, the woman handed him his son's packed bag and murmured something to him the latter couldn't understand, before the taller frowned and looked to the boy with a pulled smile.

"Come on, let's go Yoon," he softly spoke, sliding one of the backpack's straps onto his shoulder and taking hold of his child's hand with his own.

Yoonoh allowed himself to be led in silence, and refused to say much at all when his father asked if he wanted to talk about what happened. Arriving home didn't bring any change, for the boy merely greeted his mother and went up to his room, shutting the door after himself.

It didn't take long for the quiet to break him, and the fragile dam that had held his sadness in shattered, releasing a cascade of saltwater down his puffy face.

He cried and cried, and did so even harder when he heard his parents arguing about what to do.

"It's not right," his father would say, slamming his hand onto the kitchen table's top, "Those brats should learn what's right and wrong," and his mother would hurriedly reply, "They're only children, honey, maybe they'll see how upset he is and feel bad."

His pudgy hands cupped his ears, clutched them hard to try block out the occasional outbursts, but it was pointless; with their arguing or not, the pain he suffered felt to have quadrupled.

He had fallen asleep upon his bed, eyes swollen and face buried into his pillow, when a muted knock came at his door prior to it being pushed open, the yellow hall light filtering into the black room.

"Yoonie?"

He whimpered at the call of his name, afraid and unwilling to see anyone, but he forced his eyelids apart regardless and found himself before the soothing presence of Youngho.

"Johnny," the happiness in his voice was unmistakable, but it was cracked and fragile, like broken shards of crystallized sugar.

"Hey bud," Youngho maintained his whispering tone, "I heard you had a rough day. Want to tell me about it?"

The dyed-black head seated himself on the edge of the bed's side, one palm briefly hesitating before setting upon the younger's hair and entangling his fingers within the ruffled locks. Yoonoh let out an eased breath at the feather-light touch of the boy, and Youngho was almost certain he'd open up and vent, but was stunned to see that the younger simply shook his head no.

"I'm okay now with you," was what he vocalised, and Youngho felt as though he couldn't accept such an answer when the worried couple downstairs had told him that their son had been locked in his room for four hours already; but what could he know? How was Yoonoh supposed to tell him that everybody hated him but, most importantly, thought that they were boyfriends and called them gross? Would Youngho be upset, offended? Maybe he'd think it was Yoonoh's fault and distance himself even more, with no more kisses or hugs shared between them. Yoonoh didn't fully grasp why said things brought him such contentment but they did, and he'd rather have them forever than put everything at risk.

"You're thinking hard about something," the brunet's dazed eyes timidly met those that were already strained on his, "What's wrong?"

Youngho was stubborn, but he also didn't want to push too hard for the truth, so when Yoonoh wordlessly grasped his friend's free hand and held it sandwiched between his own and delicately grazed by his lips, he decided to let the subject go.

"You don't have to tell me now, okay? One day though, when you're ready, I'll listen." 

Some moments ticked by and then a warm breath fluttered across his knuckles, the young boy's lashes already dripping closed, "Thank you."

With his hands still trapped, Youngho didn't have the heart to leave the younger, and so with a tired sigh he carefully brought his legs onto the duvet and lay on his side, facing the boy who watched him through half-lidded eyes.

"You're staying?" he asked, a tint of surprise to the question.

Youngho fixed his head upon the pillow, doing his best to ignore the thunderous beating against his ribcage as he saw how close they were, felt the chapped lips move against his hand.

"Until you feel better. It's part of our promise, right?"

_His fifty-second entry spoke mostly of his troubles at school, wondering why he was so disliked and how he could possibly fix it. The sole point of light in the scribbled words was near the end, grateful and appeased._


	12. entry seventy-four

It had hit him like a sack of bricks, or more aptly like a high wave on a tempestuous day would crash against a person standing at the pier's edge: strong enough to knock them off their feet and engulf them into its depths.

Yoonoh had been thinking about it since Hayeol Min had made that comment of him and Youngho being, well, boyfriends, two months ago. Whilst his school situation didn't get any better － rather than directly confront him the other students isolated him, which he couldn't understand if it were better or not － he believed he was doing alright. His scout friends were weaselling their way past his shyness and Youngho was acting as usual around him, though their promise was still in act and he seemed more attentive to the younger's mood and needs. He was doing _sort of_ alright, actually, because lately he'd been thinking of things he'd never thought of before and seeing everything from a different perspective.

He pondered if maybe he liked his best friend the way Hayeol had suggested all along, reflecting on their intimate actions and their direct kisses consistently making him flush a vivacious fuchsia. But how was he to understand if he liked him more than a best friend, and if he did, should he say anything? Probably not. Maybe Youngho saw it the way Hayeol and his classmates did: disgusting.

Yoonoh only came to understand his feelings on a Saturday in April, a tender drizzle falling from time to time from an otherwise pale blue sky, dotted by scarce clouds. The scouts had gathered to do community service, collecting litter left behind in parks and public gardens, and they'd been at it since ten o'clock that morning.

In his curiousity to understand himself, Yoonoh often found his gaze drifting to wherever his friend was and remaining fixated until he'd startle himself out of his reverie and proceed with his job; but doing so was harder than he would have liked.

Youngho's skin that was some shades darker than that of others was glittering with an elegant sheen of perspiration, studded with miniscule diamonds, his forehead threaded with a couple strands of black hair that had begun to clump together. The feeble sunlight struck him with precision, illuminating his high cheekbones and voluminous lips. He'd let out a laugh while talking to his friends and he'd trip on an out-of-place brick or even his own feet, and Yoonoh felt his heart thudding within him at a steady and quick pace.

His pudgy hand went to clutch at his chest, his brow furrowing slightly as he discarded his duties for a moment. Could it be that he truly did like Youngho that way? He never used to kiss other people and hugging Youngho was one of the best feelings in the world, so was Hayeol right?

He decided that even if she were, there was nothing he could nor should do about this revelation, for he'd rather not risk and ruin everything for the sake of a slim chance.

Yoonoh returned to his work, head down and back now facing Youngho.

_His seventy-fourth entry was mainly filled with admiration for his friend and the final question of what it could all mean. He would remain si_ _lent nonetheless._


	13. entry seventy-six

Despite having comprehended his feelings towards Youngho, nothing had really changed. Things remained as they were, until the following February came about and their promise had resurfaced in both of their minds. Until then, they'd only embraced and cuddled as they typically would, and kissed perhaps twice, both being savoured by the two but in secret.

When the date hit the 9th of the second month, as usual Yoonoh had spent the whole day with the birthday boy, glued to his side even throughout their walk around town and to the arcade with his friends. By the time they'd gotten home, dinner was almost ready and Yoonoh didn't intend on staying; however, there was something he couldn't deny wanting. It made him giddy and it itched under his flesh, made the tips of his ears dust with pink and his pulse quicken.

On the doorstep to the older's house they both stopped, standing silently in the dim porch light that cascaded around them like a honey waterfall, knowing what was coming next and in part fearing it, in part longing for it.

Yoonoh took a step nearer and, rising onto his toes, planted a chaste kiss on Youngho's full lips, sighing faintly through his nose as the warmth that always came with their kisses filled him, coursed through his every vein and bubbled in his heart.

When they pulled apart, his hazy eyes met with the sight of an at ease black head, his lids drooped low enough to be shut and his mouth still marginally parted. Yoonoh stared at him, took in the expression that adorned him until said boy's irises were revealed and locked with the former's.

"Happy birthday, Johnny," he mumbled shyly, his gaze flitting to the floor.

"Thanks, Yoon," came the just as hushed response, and then Youngho was unlocking the front door and murmuring goodnight before closing it again.

Yoonoh had some trouble sleeping that night, far too excited about their kiss but also conflicted about what to do. He thought as he tossed about on his bed, clutched his pillow and stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.

He realised that after the event Youngho appeared more tense around him again, and it reminded him of the year prior － something that brought a lingering panic into an ever festering fear.

The days to his own birthday passed both too quickly and too slowly, because Youngho seemed to drift away some days and then come back soon after. It baffled Yoonoh but he didn't question it, and when he turned fifteen all he anticipated, rather than the gifts and hanging out with his scout friends, was having Youngho kiss him.

He supposed he truly did like his friend that way but he didn't mind, eventually it would go away by itself, surely.

And so again, up in his room and with his phone playing music in the background, the two of them seated abreast one another on the floor at the foot of the bed, Youngho flicking through a book the younger had received, Yoonoh continuously peeked at him from his peripheral vision, fumbling with an action figure of Spider-Man that he'd just unpacked.

"I can feel you looking at me, y'know," the black head suddenly said, cutting the relatively awkward silence between them and causing Yoonoh's entire face to glow crimson.

"So-Sorry. . ."

Youngho calmly closed the book and set it down, with a sigh letting his head fall back against the mattress' end.

"You want to kiss, don't you?"

The smaller was abashed that he'd been called out so easily, but didn't hesitate to nod and Youngho let out another breath, allowing his head to flop sideways, directed at the boy beside him.

"Do it."

And Yoonoh leaned forward, twisting his torso and setting his weight on his palms pressed onto the carpeted floor, the last thing he saw being Youngho's eyes falling shut and his own face drawing nearer.

He noticed it almost instantly, a change from their typically shared kisses. This felt oddly more important, needy, desperate, and then the older was holding him gently by the neck, forcing the brunet to be impossibly close. It lasted longer too, both of them simply staying pressed together and barely breathing, yet enjoying the moment nonetheless.

Eventually, Youngho pulled away, and even with his rattled mind and erratic emotions, Yoonoh didn't take long to spot the slight strain in the former's jaw, the hint of sadness in his eyes.

"We should really stop doing this," he soon said, his warm palm sliding away, leaving Yoonoh cold, and the boy remained stock still, unblinking, because the worst thing that could happen was happening and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He knew Youngho was right, of course he did, but he didn't want to let this all go, he didn't want this to stop.

"Okay," was what he said, voice meek and features forced deadpan.

Youngho arched a brow, looking back at him as he had turned to the book forgotten in his lap.

"I thought － I thought you would be sadder."

"I am sad, but it's fine if you'll be happy."

_His seventy-sixth entry was brief, but heavy with tears he had spilt onto the only partially filled page. Perhaps he was going to lose Youngho._


	14. distant

Two years trickled by like sand in an hourglass, and even if it wasn't that much time, it felt as though his entire world had changed, morphed into one from an alternate dimension, leaving him stranded.

His schoolmates eventually warmed up to him, for the most part, and he did all he could to lose weight. Yoonoh was taller now, almost tall as Youngho, and his hair was dyed a caramel brown, waved to sit in parted bangs on his forehead. He dressed well and took care of his appearance, kept up his grades and tried doing things out of his comfort zone. He wondered if maybe this was all he had to do to make people like him.

Another major change had been that both he and Youngho had left the boy scouts, the older leaving first and Yoonoh following shortly after. It simply hadn't been the same without his friend and not having him around for encouragement was detrimental to the boy.

It happened that Youngho had since had three girlfriends, the first lasting four months, the second lasting six and third lasting seven. It was inexplicable, the festering sensation within Yoonoh's belly every time the older would talk about his dates or smile at his phone whilst chatting with his current partner. It was even worse when he had to witness their P.D.A.'s as if he weren't sitting right across from them at all. 

He had tried doing the same, being set up with a girl from his year but a different school by Youngho himself, but it simply didn't feel right. She could sense his lack of interest in her and sometimes the brunet worried she'd see the way he would look at his best friend; girls always have that sixth sense thing and it scared him. 

The couple didn't last long but they remained on decent terms with one another, occasionally chatting when they were free. 

Since his fifteenth birthday, Yoonoh's lips hadn't touched those of Youngho, and whilst he would still slip in a hug or let his hands linger on the older, he never dared to take anything further in fear the motive behind his actions would be understood.

And so now they'd meet during break time, go over to each other's house every other afternoon, stay gaming until early hours of the morning on Saturdays, but except for the silent, stolen moments of yearning gazes and faint touches, Yoonoh had nothing.


	15. entry one-hundred-seventy-nine

It was late in the evening when Youngho had parted his sweet lips to utter such bitter words, splayed on his back upon Yoonoh's bed as said seventeen-year-old scrolled through his Reddit feed beside him, "I'm moving back to Chicago."

His thumb stopped mid-swipe, his eyes strained on the lit screen as his mind went blank for a few seconds before stumbling into a fervent whirlwind of questions, fumbled in words and topics. He couldn't bring himself to speak, his jaw falling slack, attempting to get a sound out, but none leaving him.

"I'll be going in a little over two weeks," Youngho's head turned to him and Yoonoh did the same, and the sight of unshed tears in the older's eyes was enough to make some well in the former's own, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Yoonoh gave a stiff nod, swallowing thickly and concentrating on keeping his voice sturdy as he said, "How long have you known?"

"About three months. Dad wants me to finish highschool here before we leave."

His heart lurched into his throat that had dried, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to move, every bit of his body abruptly cold, chilled by the news that was thrown upon him with no warning.

"Why didn't you. . .?"

"I couldn't, Yoonie, believe me," Youngho was quick to say, turning onto his stomach so that he was resting on his forearms, now closer to his friend, "I tried so many times but I just didn't know how to do it."

Yoonoh could understand that, it wasn't a foreign feeling to him, but damn did it hurt more than every bone in his skeleton being smashed. He didn't say anything else, he didn't _know_ what to say. What could he possibly murmur that would ease the pain?

All their years together, did they really have to end with them being torn apart? All their happiness and love, did they have to be stowed away in a box of memories he'd open back up one day and look upon, wincing at what could have been?

"Can't you stay? You're nineteen. Stay with me, here, or get your own place. We could give you money until －"

A large hand set upon his upper thigh, warm, strong, and it silenced him who glanced down at it and then back to its owner.

"I can't, Yoonie, I would if I could," the boy's shoulders sagged, "but I'll come visit a bunch and then maybe one day move back here too."

"Or I could come to America."

Youngho gave a sombre smile, "Yeah, you could."

A pause.

"We're still going to be friends, Yoon."

"What if. . ." _I want us to be more than that, and now it's too late?_

The question went unspoken, but somehow it looked as though Youngho had regrets of his own, eyes clouded with something Yoonoh couldn't discern, and it made him want to ask － _beg_ to know what was going through his head, because his own was a _disaster_.

"I'm going to miss you," he eventually forced out, words sounding like nails dragging down a chalkboard to his ears.

"I'm going to miss you too. More than you know."

_I doubt it._

Taking him off-guard, Youngho pushed up on his arms and drew nearer, momentarily hesitating before apprehensively placing his mouth onto Yoonoh's. Fresh tears spilt from the younger's eyes, the sensation having been missed and dreamt of for so long, but now feeling like a shot to his gut after finally reoccurring. Why couldn't it be happening under different circumstances?

He threw caution to the wind and grabbed both sides of the older's face, tugging him closer until the latter was forced to move onto his knees and drag them up along the bed. The lack of resistance and reluctance to the kiss would have astounded him if he weren't so enraptured by the way Youngho hovered over him, both hands set on the brunet's shoulders as he began to hungrily move his lips in a slow pattern.

This was their second different kiss and it brought to mind their last one from years ago; desperate and somehow chained with despair. Could it be that Youngho could feel Yoonoh's same emotions through the way his bathed breath would leave him in gasps, the way his nimble hands were still clutching his jaw, the way he let his tongue slide out in tentative licks? Probably not.

When they pulled apart, Yoonoh didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to see the harsh reality that followed a blissful dream; but he did, and now he realised that along with the wetness on his face spent from the faucets in his eyes, the rivers of Youngho's own had mingled with them.

"Just for old time's sake," Youngho had murmured into the silence filled with their quick breaths and galloping hearts.

"Right."

_His one-hundred and seventy-ninth entry was riddled with pain, smudged with ink because of how quickly he had written it, and even the recounting of the kiss was coiled in bitterness._


	16. final entry

Two weeks were not enough to let go. Two weeks were not enough to get used to someone you've always had by your side, not being there. Two weeks were not enough to say goodbye.

The news spread like wildfire with Youngho being popular, and whilst it was nice to see how many people cared for his friend, every _"Goodbye man, we'll all miss you!"_ made him want to scream, rip his hair out because no, they wouldn't be missing him as much as Yoonoh would be, they wouldn't be feeling their every moment of future happiness being shredded mercilessly. They won't be the ones without the one person who'd truly understood them, cared about them, and to whom they'd wholly given their heart to. They couldn't even fathom how he would feel.

Whilst it was obvious Yoonoh wasn't taking the situation well, he never let show how truly badly it affected him, too scared others would question it or, even worse, Youngho would.

Since their most intimate moment yet, the older seemed to cling to him even more and Yoonoh found it to be bittersweet, leaving a vile taste in his mouth.

He had considered it for the entirety of ten days, contemplated what he had to lose and gain only to realise that both were null. He would eventually have to move on, set this whole childish love behind him and find someone who was willing to accept and return his affections, and he couldn't do that with the weight of his journal being so great on his mind.

He decided to give it away, give it to Youngho as a parting gift, let him read it if he wanted to and expose his rawest self to him. Perhaps it was embarrassing, but Yoonoh didn't care, he couldn't keep the book that was filled with every pathetic detail of his life and throwing it into the rubbish felt as though he were discarding his love for Youngho itself. While he did long to grow out of it, treating his feelings and all his years with the other boy as garbage was unthinkable.

And so the day of the flight, two weeks now lost to the unending gluttonous hunger of time, before leaving home to see Youngho off at the airport, he wrote a message on a slip of paper, taped it to the first blank page inside the journal, and tied it shut with an old shoelace.

That was the first thing Youngho read, sunken into the rubbery seat he was given for his flight, now thousands of miles above the ground, growing farther from the _person_ he called _home_.

_i guess you'll need something to read on your long flight and there are things i never got to tell you. i hope you are happy in america. have a safe trip! from,_   
_your boy scout_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
